Grandpa's Tool Shed

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The yard behind our grandparent's house was quite large. There were trees to climb, a field to hide in, and Grandpa's tool shed. Grandma would always tell us not to go near Grandpa's tool shed. Of course we would all ask why. Her reply, or what I thought she said was, "Because there are metals down there." Now I thought metals were the pipes and tools that Grandpa had stored in his shed. He was a plumber by trade. My siblings and cousins would go down to the back yard for a game of tag or hide-and-go-seek. We stayed clear of Grandpa's tool shed. Those feared metals would surely cause us harm. One day we all got brave and decided to check out the shed and its contents. The pine needles and sticks cracked beneath our feet as we carefully made our way around the bushes that grew around the shed. One person stood as lookout as we snuck up on the shed. Peeking into the windows with our hands against the glass, we could see copper pipes of all sizes. The shelves held various tools. The "metals" lay all around the floor. But, they all seemed harmless. We laughed about Grandma's warning. My cousin shinnied up the pine tree next to the shed. She egged me on to try to do the same. All that I managed to do was get my hair and hands covered in pine pitch and my knees and elbows scraped. Once back at the house we got a good scolding. Grandma cleaned the pitch out of my hair and from my hands. My boo-boos received bandaids. We were all banished to the front porch for the day. The last thing Grandma said was "I told you kids that you shouldn't play around Grandpa's shed. Just be glad that you didn't get into the nettles." It wasn't until years later when I was babysitting that I realized what nettles actually were. To entertain the kids we played a game of hide-and-seek. Their parents had warned of nettles around the property, but I gave it no mind. That was until I climbed a dirt pile that was covered with brush and got my first experience with coming in contact with nettles. My Grandma's voice quickly entered my mind as little bumps appeared on my arms that itched like the dickens. Heed your Grandma's warnings, "watch out for metals."